


Matters of Satisfaction

by Larkawolfgirl



Series: Time Will Tell [3]
Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Asexual Character, Epilogue, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Polyfidelity, Sequel, Voyeurism, self-perceived cheating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-08 11:46:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5495918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larkawolfgirl/pseuds/Larkawolfgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*New Changes Made* Alternative epilogue/sequel to "Time Will Tell." Murata told Yuuri that he would help him if he ever needed help satisfying Wolfram, but he hadn't really expected his friend to consider it. When Wolfram agrees to go along with the idea, they find more than simple satisfaction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Matters of Satisfaction

**Author's Note:**

> This was just an idea that sprung up from my mind which likes to run into every direction. As you can tell, it came out long. Not only is this a lot longer than "Time Will Tell," it is the longest oneshot I have written so far.
> 
> *I suddenly go the urge to go through and add a bit more focus on Wolfram's conflict about the affair. So, most of the changes I made were word changes, improved grammar choices, and additional Wolfram thoughts. However, I did also add one line that shows Yuuri is not as sure of the situation as he might appear. Nothing major, but I think it feels more realistic now :)

Wolfram had had another wet dream. They were occurring more and more frequently. He shifted, trying to apply less pressure to his husband. He didn’t want to be a bother. "Morning, Yuuri," he mumbled sleepily.

"Morning," Yuuri replied casually. Wolfram didn’t speak further, attempting to calm himself down. He imaged Gwendal in a frilly dress, but then he remembered his pink nightgown which led to Yuuri taking it off him. He thought about training, but then he thought about other things that could make him sweaty. Shit. He just couldn’t calm down.

“You don’t need to pretend you aren’t hard right now,” his husband said as if it was not the bother Wolfram knew it was. “I can feel it poking me.”

“Sorry,” he said, pushing his head further into the pillow. “I don’t mean to. I just…”

“I know.” Yuuri cupped his check, and Wolfram immediately nuzzled against it. “Honestly, it’s okay.”

“I’ll,” he glanced away sheepishly, “uh, go take care of it.”

The blond exited the room, though it was the last thing he wanted to do. He wished he could at least do this much in his husband’s company. And Yuuri would probably allow him to if he asked, but he worried it would push him too much. He already seemed to feel guilty for his lack of “attraction.” His body had cravings, but he didn’t want Yuuri to feel obligated.

He found relief in the baths as usual. The water was warm and acted as a natural moisture. He rested there a while afterward to clear his head of the perverted thoughts. Then he returned to their bedchamber as if nothing had happened.

Yuuri had dressed himself by this time, and they headed off to start the day. It was typical in every way. They had a light breakfast among family, had afternoon tea with Greta (and her boyfriend Drew who had been coming to visit far too often in Yuuri’s opinion), done their personal duties, and then retreated to the privacy of their bedchamber for dinner. Wolfram was grateful that Yuuri had at least managed to learn the ropes of his position and earn enough trust to gain this much free time to spend with his family. The blond would probably have lost it if they were not able to at least spend this time together.

The food was simple cheese and bread, and they spread it out between them on the floor. They chatted about trivial things such as Wolfram’s horses’ odd temperament as of late. There wasn’t any specific reason for it to happen, but it happened nonetheless. A bit of cheese had gotten stuck on the corner of the double-black’s mouth, and the blond took no time in leaning in to lick it up. When he pulled back, Wolfram’s eyes were lidded, and Yuuri shivered under his gaze. The double-black pulled him back in, not only letting him into his mouth but beckoning him inside.

They had had a bit of wine, but they hadn’t had enough to blame the situation on it. Somewhere along the line Wolfram had pushed Yuuri back, and his hand was already trailing lightly over his chest before he stopped himself. “Yuuri…” he nearly panted.

Suddenly, Yuuri’s leg was all-out rubbing against his groin and Wolfran couldn’t prevent his erection from stirring. “Yuu..ri,” he choked out, “what are you…doing?”

“Why don’t you do it here? Why don’t you show me how you pleasure yourself?”

Wolfram shuddered. This was what he had wanted. “Shit. Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“But I thought—“

“I just want to see you.”

The blond doubted that. There was something about Yuuri’s eyes that suggested he was pushing himself, but Wolfram was too far now to back out of such an opportunity. He climbed off of him, leaning back as he stripped. When he had removed all his garments, he caught Yuuri openly staring at his growing erection.

Yuuri quickly backed up with a blush. “Sorry.”

But Wolfram didn’t mind. Actually, it made him long even more to see Yuuri as he did this; and he would have asked for a full view if not for that glimmer in his husband’s eyes. His breath hitched just thinking about how he would look (he had enough reserved memories from the baths stored). His hand found his cock and sped its motions in time to his fantasies. “Yuuri,” he breathed out, light and strained.

The louder Wolfram became the more uncomfortable Yuuri seemed, but he didn’t once look away. Soon his other hand met his lips. Thoroughly coated in saliva, it traveled to his hole. One finger entered, causing the hole to spasm as he cried out Yuuri’s name.

He imagined Yuuri crawling to him for a kiss. His mouth felt dry and lonely. “Can…you kiss me?” he pleaded.

“Wolf…” Yuuri trailed off, doing as he was asked, and Wolfram sighed.

He imaged Yuuri doing more. He would stare at Yuuri in confusion as he replaced his hands with his own. Yuuri would push a finger slowly in making him shudder harder. Yuuri would be happy when he found that spot; he would abuse it. Wolfram acted it out, assaulting that ball of nerves.

Yuuri was still near, and now he brushed along his face, kissed his finger trails. This real Yuuri and fake Yuuri mingling together caused his movements to become more sporadic.

“Are you close?”

Hearing these words from his husband set him off. He cried out, tugging him as close as possible as his body quaked. A sticky liquid had landed on Yuuri’s clothed chest, but he ignored it, holding Wolfram until his breathing returned to normal.

When it had, the blond jolted. “I’m so sorry. We need to wash that immediately.”

“Shh. It’s okay. The maids can take care of it.”

The double-black looked relieved, but Wolfram couldn’t tell if his relief was from what had occurred or from it finally being over. That had definitely been the best orgasm he had ever had, but now he felt strange and guilty. He shouldn’t let that happen again. “I’m tried. We should sleep,” he said, faking a smile.

“Yeah,” Yuuri replied, mirroring his expression.

Yuuri snuggled against him as closely as usual, even brushed a stray bang from his forehead as he whispered words of affection. Wolfram should have found sleep easily, but it came hard instead.

The next morning Wolfram’s body was more relaxed, but he didn’t feel quite rested. Yuuri must have noticed, because he frowned. “Wolf, about last night…”

The blond turned his face away. “I won’t let it happen again.”

“Hey now,” he said forcing his face back toward him, “I started it.”

“No, you didn’t. I was the one that forced you down. And besides, you did it for me. And don’t you dare lie about it.”

The king looked down as he scratched his neck. “Was it that obvious?”

Wolfram sighed. “You don’t need to force yourself for my sake, Yuuri. I knew what I was getting into.”

“Maybe so, but still. I may not be able to have sex with you, but I could still pleasure you.”

Fantasies from last night flashed in his mind. He quickly shook them away. “Yeah, but you wouldn’t enjoy it. I won’t become a burden for you.”

Surprisingly, anger flashed in the normally docile king. For a second Wolfram was worried the Maoh might appear. “Then what am I supposed to do?” he all but shouted.

Wolfram could feel his own anger stirring, but he held most of it back, still cautious about waking the Maoh. “Nothing! You don’t need to do anything.”

“Maybe I don’t need to, but what about what I _want_?”

“We both know you don’t _want_ to touch me like that. I won’t become a chore to you.”

“But I want you happy, Wolf. Seeing you like this hurts me.”

“You think I’m unhappy?” he spat, a sour taste filling his mouth. “Is that what I seem to you?”

“Shit! Wolf, I know you are happy. But you could be happier.” He paused in thought long enough for Wolfram to begin to pull out items of clothes from the closet. “What if we compromised?”

“Huh?” Wolfram turned back to him, a pile of clothes held precariously in his arms.

“Back at the wedding Murata told me to let him know if I ever needed help satisfying you.”

The clothes fell out of his arms as Wolfram stumbled backward. His eyes flashed, caution forgotten. He stomped back to the bed and grabbed the collar of Yuuri’s pajama top. “You better not be suggesting what I think you are.”

“Now, Wolf,” he said carefully, “just hear me out.”

“No wonder you used to be such a cheater. You take cheating lightly, don’t you, wimp? Who do you think I am?”

“But it wouldn’t be cheating. Not with my blessing.”

“You are missing the point here. You are my _husband_.”

“Yes, and as your husband, I would approve.”

Wolfram released his collar, sitting down with a huff. “Even if I went along with this preposterous idea, you are the Maoh. I would be committing a capital offence.”

“Wolf,” he took his hand, tracing light circles across his skin, “I guarantee your safety. I vow that I will never turn against you. Can you at least think about it?”

Wolfram looked into his eyes. They were so sincere, so loving. He couldn’t deny those eyes. “Fine.”

“Thank you!” He pulled him into a crushing hug, and Wolfram had to stop himself from laughing at his enthusiasm.

Wolfram couldn’t believe he had allowed himself to fall into such an awkward situation. While Wolfram himself was grimacing, the Great Sage was grinning widely at him. He reached for his hand which made Wolfram instinctively flinch away.

Murata chuckled. “No need to be so bashful, Lord von Bielefeld.”

Wolfram glared. “Yuuri,” he said in a displeased tone, “did you really tell him my conditions?”

Yuuri’s voice trembled with the slightest hint of dishonesty. “Of course.”

Murata’s eyes laughed with mirth. “Not to worry, Lord von Bielefeld—by the way, may I call you Wolfram?—I will play by the rules.”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. “Fine. You may call me Wolfram. That is the least of my worries.”

“Should I leave you two alone now?” Yuuri asked with uncertainly.

Wolfram rubbed his upper arm. “Uh, yes. I should be alright.”

After a quick peck on the lips, Yuuri left them alone in the hallway, and Wolfram shifted uncomfortably. “Shall we have some lunch?”

“Yes, that sounds like a wonderful idea.”

It was the third lunch date the two of them had had now, and Wolfram could feel himself slowly beginning to relax more within his company. “So, Murata. You are coined the kingdom’s best playboy. Why, exactly, did you decide to pursue me?” He softened his eyes, allowing the slightest hint of flirtation to enter his voice. “Are you in it for the challenge?”

Murata’s glasses glinted, shielding his eyes. “Being the Great Sage has its perks, but having everything given to you on a silver platter is not as cracked up as it appears to be. Half those biding for my company are brainless, craving nothing more than a good time. The other longs to use me for my status. Neither of which relationship holds substance.”

Wolfram fingered his glass thoughtfully. “And you think that I, a married man, does?”

“Do not forget that we have known each other for a while now, even if it has not been intimately. I have heard the way you converse with Shibuya, don’t worry. Even if your affections remain forever for him alone, simply being in your presence is already beyond those I might find elsewhere.”

“So my beauty has nothing to with it?”

The Sage shifted his head, revealing laughing eyes. “I would be lying if I said that had nothing to do with it. However, I assure you that looks are not my main priority. I have ample memories of beauties to keep me,” he smirked, “ _busy_ all day long.”

“Hmm.” Wolfram fingered the blueberry scone he had yet to taste. “And you are content to give me what my body desires without anything in return?”

Murata chuckled. “You make me sound like a saint. Of course I would love for a reward of some kind—perhaps a fraction of that affection you lavish on Shibuya so often—but I will take what it is I can get.”

“I see.” Wolfram took a sip of his tea. “If you could have anything, what is it you would want most?”

“Easy. Love.”

Wolfram was surprised, but he forced himself to retain a composed appearance. “Considering your long lifespan, I would think that you would have enough experience in romance.”

Murata’s glasses glinted again (by now Wolfram had realized that they did so whenever he was talking about something he found unpleasant to recall). “That is exactly the reason. It is not easy having lived so many lives. It is often difficult to remember where the Great Sage ends and Ken begins. All of my past lovers loved the Great Sage, but none so far have loved Murata Ken. Having someone love me now would give my current self presence. It would give more significance to this individual lifetime.” He tilted his head, revealing his guarded eyes, and placed what Wolfram suspected was a fake smile on his face. “But this is nothing you should be worrying yourself about.”

Wolfram fake-smiled back, though inwardly he knew that it was not something so easily set aside. Murata had always seemed flippant—austere when he needed to be—but generally contrived. It made him feel slightly unnerved that he had failed to recognize that this man held such depth. He still didn’t feel comfortable in this arrangement, but he realized that he could have put himself in worse hands.

It was not long before the stirrings of rumors about them began to circulate the castle. Yuuri quickly stepped in, offering that he join them on the dates to avoid further suspicion. Having his husband there was reassuring as well as disconcerting. Wolfram still felt like he was committing a crime of some sort even though they had done nothing besides talk. It didn’t help that Yuuri pried into that very matter. Wolfram immediately scoffed that he was not some hussy that gave himself away so easily. However, Murata disregarded his comment by joining their hands and quickly hiding them beneath the table. Wolfram nearly protested, but when he saw the relief upon his husband’s face he clamped his jaw shut.

Such dates continued, and with them, the inevitability of their _intercourse_ approached. Wolfram’s head began to swim in a confused whirlpool. The Great Sage held no candle to Yuuri. It was Yuuri he wanted holding him late into the night, it was Yuuri he imaged sitting across from him when they were as old as dirt. Yet, something was waking in him that frankly scared him a bit. Things would be so much easier if he weren’t so sexual, so hot blooded. Now when he relieved himself it wasn’t just Yuuri that ravaged him, but a man that was both his husband and Great Sage. One second he saw Yuuri’s loving smile then Murata’s mirthful eyes.

The first time it happened he had felt sick with guilt. Even if Yuuri wanted him to receive “pleasure” this was something different altogether, wasn’t it? Not only was he beginning to crave another’s touch, but he was defiling his very image of Yuuri. What would happen when they did have intercourse? What if he lost himself?

He was agonizingly fretful, and felt the need to confess almost immediately. With troubled eyes, and an even more troubled heart, he announced to his husband that he had something to confess. They skipped out on breakfast that morning in order to discuss the matter behind the privacy of their chambers. As he’d come to expect by now, Yuuri took the news well. Wolfram was still in total disbelief that his husband could be so encouraging about him having an affair.

“Doesn’t the thought of another man embracing me bother you?”

“It did, at first. But that was when I imagined a stranger, someone who was going to steal you away from me. Whatever Murata ends up doing for you, he won’t steal you from me. I trust that you will always come back here to me. That’s why.”

Wolfram could feel the beginning of tears. This was how much Yuuri had come to love and trust him. He couldn’t thank his good fortune enough. “Of course I will always come back to you. A wimp like you needs me.”

“That I do,” he said.

Eventually, Wolfram couldn’t stand it anymore—not with Yuuri constantly inquiring and the Sage always suggesting and his body continuously aching for a touch besides his own—he gave in. Yuri sighed when he told him, and his shoulders sagged as if a weight had been lifted. Then he thanked him, as if this was actually some sort of gift Wolfram was giving him.

The king wasted no time calling upon the Sage. They had him come to their bedchamber since there would be too many prying eyes at the Shrine. Yuuri passed Wolfram’s hand over to Murata’s, as if Yuuri were giving him away, and it made Wolfram’s stomach tighten. But then Yuuri touched his check and asked, “Would you like for me to watch? Would that make it less awkward?” and it resettled. He nodded with vigor, ignoring the laughter in the other double-black’s eyes.

It helped having his husband there; he served as a reminder that this was alright—welcomed even. It also helped being in a familiar room since he could focus solely on the uncertainty that was Murata as well as this wholly new situation.

Murata began to remove his clothes, and Wolfram could feel the embarrassment setting in. He chose to hide it with the spoiled bratiness he had mostly grown out of by then.

“I will remove my own clothes, thank you very much,” he said, because he was not yet ready to feel foreign hands upon him. But all too soon he had done as he said and the hands found him. They felt so different from Yuuri’s. It wasn’t just that they were larger, colder, or less calloused; they were more experienced and moved with energetic purpose.

Wolfram pushed the hands aside with a huff. “Wait a minute. Do not forget yourself, Murata. You are here for my pleasure, not your own.”

The double-black bowed with a glint in his eyes. “Of course, Lord Bielefeld.”

“I want you to remove your clothes. Then you may touch me.”

While Murata did as he was instructed, Wolfram moved to the bed, turning to face the direction Yuuri had planted himself. Too nervous to watch Murata finish his work, he met eyes with his husband, sharing a comforting smile.

Bare, Murata draped himself over the blond. His presence was overwhelming and Wolfram was forced to make eye contact. The Sage leaned down, sucking readily on his nipples. Wolfram wiggled under the unusual feeling, but it did the trick to awaken his dick.

“There it is,” Murata said, grinding his own cock—already semi-hard—against his lower stomach. It was the first time Wolfram had felt such hardness, and he shivered.

“You are quite energetic. Are you sure my appearance is not your main motivation?”

Murata moved his hips down so that he could grind their groins together. Wolfram gasped, clutching the bedsheet for support against these new sensations.

“You are quite responsive as well, Wolfram. I am simply not as reserved as you. Also, I have not had relations, just as you instructed. So, please forgive me if I seem…eager.”

He ground his hips again on the final word, and Wolfram squeezed his eyes shut. He lost himself in the rocking sensations, forgetting all else momentarily so that his hand suddenly gripping his dick instead caused him to emit a tiny squeak of surprise.

When he opened his eyes, Murata’s were clouded with lust and staring directly into his own. He stroked his shaft while asking, “Now then, what exactly would you like for me to do?”

Wolfram’s throat clenched. He had thought about this moment often. He had ran through lists of what and how to say them, but now he felt vulnerable. The words stuck on his tongue. Murata’s hand stroking him did nothing to help, and his eyes strayed back to Yuuri. The double-back nodded, the best reassurance he could give. Gulping, he answered in a voice less confident than he would have liked. “We have time for other things later. Tonight I would like to feel you inside me.”

“Straight to third base, huh?”

Yuuri let out a small chuckle at the comment, and Wolfram felt his temple throb. Murata must have noticed his annoyance at being left out of the loop, because he continued, “Sorry. Earth reference.”

“I figured as much.”  

“Would you mind handing me the lube and condom in my pocket, Shibuya? I wouldn’t want to leave him feeling neglected.” With that he nibbled at his collarbone, making the blond shiver. Taking the mentioned items from the other double-black, he dipped his fingers into the lube bottle. Liquid-covered fingers lowered and prodded gently at his opening. Pushing one inside slowly, Murata groaned. “You’re so hot.”

Wolfram quivered when Murata swirled his finger. His walls clamped down and his breath hitched when the Sage added a second finger. He moved the fingers together, making squelching noises, and vaguely Wolfram wondered what Yuuri was thinking. To the blond’s ears the sounds served to increase his sensitivity, but they might be revolting to someone like Yuuri. The finger touched that spot inside him, and his mind was overtaken by the sensation.

“Enough!” he cried, feeling desperate.

“You sure? If you haven’t noticed, I am quite built.”

It was true that Wolfram had yet to actually look at his endowment, but he was sure that he would be able to handle it. He was used to dealing with unpleasantries. “Yes, I am. I believe I have been patient enough already.”

Murata chuckled as he removed his fingers, causing Wolfram to whimper ever so slightly at the loss. “That would be your own fault.”

“I am aware,” he replied sternly.

Watching as he lubed himself up and covered it with the latex contraceptive, Wolfram took him in. He hadn’t been lying about his build. While Yuuri’s arms were more defined from his many years of baseball, Murata’s lower region was impressive to say the least. Apprehensive as it might be, he had often heard that such endowment was a sought after delight. Steadfast, he turned, positioning himself on his knees facing Yuuri. Murata spread his offered butt cheeks as he leaned in. He could feel the hard tip of the head press against him before it began to slip inside. A harsh cry erupted from his throat as his face contorted, and he immediately clenched the bedsheets for support.

“I warned you.” The Sage’s voice had deepened, and it sent a shiver down his spine.

“No need to stop,” he said, though it came out strained.

He could sense Murata’s uncertainty, but he continued pushing in regardless. Finally, he was in to the hilt, and Wolfram couldn’t believe how it felt to have a hot, hard foreign organ inside of him. This was Murata inside him, and his mind wandered to his husband. If only this could be him. He glanced up at him again—taking what he could get. His husband’s eyes were on him, and he saw his mouth drop open, and he wondered if his husband even had a clue what sex was like, but then Murata moved, and all thoughts left his head, because all he could focus on was searing heat and a fullness more than he had ever imagined.

It was a strange, pleasant mixture of pain and pleasure, and soon he found himself rocking back against him, trying desperately to increase the pressure. Squirming with need, the blond ground his head against the mattress, tilting his hips as he pushed backward. It was becoming harder and harder to control himself, and he let out a strangled whine full of gnawing desire.

Murata was working hard to match his passionate rhythm, and trickles of sweat were building on his skin. He gripped the blond’s hips for better leverage. Soon he found his prostate, and Wolfram arched further at this impact, rougher, stronger, and more intense than mere fingers had been.

“Did you like that, Wolfram?”

He moaned, nodding. Murata trailed kisses down his back, first his neck, then his shoulders, then tiny peppery kisses along his spine. Wolfram pushed his hips back with wild abandon, and Murata sped up, thrusting roughly, hitting his prostrate with almost every lunge. Their flesh hitting together filled the room with smacking sounds, and it filled Wolfram with an odd thrill. The double-black buried his face against his throat, tasting along his jugular. Fingers curled around his sides as he slammed in harder.

In a trembling voice, the blond said, “I’m close.”

Quickly, Murata reached down, finding his swollen cock and pumped it rapidly in time with his hard thrusts. Wolfram shuddered rhythmically as white hot bliss overtook him. The spasm continued as a low moan made its way from his lips and sunk into the mattress. His walls tightened around Murata’s dick, and the Sage continued to ride out his pleasure, sighing at the clenching sensation as Wolfram slunk forward, legs too shaky to support him any longer. Finally, he cried out in his own ecstasy.

Wolfram’s eyes had fallen closed, but he soon heard Yuuri shifting, so he reopened them. Yuuri looked uneasy, as if he were entirely out of place—which he kind of was.

“Did I satisfy you adequately?” Murata asked, sitting down on the bed.

He was suddenly guilt-ridden. That had been more enjoyable than he had expected, and he was acutely aware of how much Yuuri had been able to read into the exchange. He dreaded what his husband must think of him. He battled with himself if he should answer or close his eyes and feign sleep. The latter was the safer option, yet he had never prided cowards.

Sitting up, he chose his words carefully. “Yes. That was intense.” Greater praises sat upon his tongue, but he couldn’t bring himself to word them with Yuuri’s eyes set so firmly on him. He quickly slipped his underwear back on, feeling just as uncomfortable now as Yuuri must. He wished that he were alone so that he could take the necessary time to clear his head. He fumbled for an appropriate way to excuse Murata without sounding ungrateful, realizing that Yuuri was sitting completely still in the same position he had been in for most of the intercourse, apparently waiting for Wolfram to decide what to do with the situation. He didn’t want that much responsibility.

Luckily, Murata sensed the disquiet in the room, and began to dress himself. “I had an excellent time, but I should be getting back to my duties. Will we still be meeting for lunch tomorrow?”

Yuuri still didn’t move, so Wolfram smiled softly. “Yes.”

“I look forward to it.” He seemed to contemplate touching Wolfram in some fashion, but thought better of it. Instead, he waved before leaving.

Wolfram let out a heavy sigh, falling back against the pillows. Yuuri joined him on the bed, filling the space that Murata had just been frequenting. He reached toward him, and Wolfram tensed. “I should bathe.”

“It’s fine. I want to hold you.” His arms stretched around him, and he let them. Yuuri was warm and familiar, and he sunk into the touch. But he still couldn’t push aside the guilt that he had enjoyed being with Murata. Almost more than these intimate moments with Yuuri. Ambivalence filled him as he realized he should confess. It wasn’t right for him to keep it to himself, yet he knew that it would only hurt him. He’d given him his trust that he would always return—and of course he would—but now Wolfram realized he’d been naïve to think it would be as easy of a promise to carry out.

“Was that difficult to watch?” he finally asked, stomach twisting.

His arms tightened around him. “A bit. It made me regret that I couldn’t be the one to make you feel those things. But I was happy too. I’ve never seen you look so alive.”

“Yeah. It was invigorating.” He paused, feeling the words he least wanted to say attempting to leap off his tongue. “Will I be doing it again?”

“That is up to you. All I want is for you to be happy.”

Shinou. He couldn’t believe how fortunate he was to have been able to marry Yuuri. He brought his hands up to his back. “You’re too good to me.”

“After all the crap I put you through before, you deserve it. No. You deserve it anyway.”

“No one has ever loved me so unconditionally. With Mother it was always about my looks and refinement. With Brother it was about my duty and position. With my men it is about my strength and strategy. Only you give me so much for simply being who I am.” He leaned in for a kiss, running hands absently across his back.

 

For Yuuri’s sake he put off another coupling, though he already felt the itch for it crawling beneath his skin only a few days later. Being around Murata now sent an acute jolt throughout his body. He came to want to know the Sage better, but he still felt too guilty to act and speak freely with Yuuri overseeing them. Soon Yuuri's presence became an unwanted hindrance. When he finally mentioned another coupling, he requested doing so privately. Of course, Yuuri accepted without issue, which only served to make him feel worse.

They went to his old bedroom, which had seen little use since Yuuri had become the Maoh. He was hit with a wave of nostalgia when they entered the room.

Murata shut the door with a click and began to look around the room as well. “Worthy of a prince.”

Wolfram cracked a smile as he approached the bookcase. It was mostly filled with books his mother had given him on how to snarl the perfect man. He chuckled. He had been right when he assured her that he had no need for such things.

“Something funny?”

“Just these books. Mother was so sure that I would have as many relationship troubles as she has. Instead, I got Yuuri. I had to wait for him, but it was worth it. And now, you gave yourself willingly. Shinou must have blessed me.”

Murata ran a hand along his chin, staring him in the face. “Shinou had nothing to do with it. I would never allow for such things.”

“You have been through a lot, haven’t you?”

“More than you can imagine.”

“I don’t mean to pry, but I had always assumed that you and Shinou were a couple. Everyone does.”

“We were. He and I have our…differences. People change, I especially. I’m not the same person who loved him. Yet, the love does not vanish so easily. It is…challenging.”

Wolfram’s curiosity was peeked, but he was sensible enough to realize that it was not something he would like to discuss. “Let’s sit,” he said, tugging on his arm.

Once they had sat, Murata turned toward him. “I know you said not to kiss you, but I have come to like you a lot, Wolfram. May I?”

Somewhere in the back of his mind he screamed in protest, but he nodded, readily opening his mouth and tasting the other man’s tongue. It was soft and intimate—nearly as intimate as his kisses with Yuuri—and he could feel guilt churning in his stomach just as strongly as his body began to ache. He needed more. Not just the sex. He needed this intimacy. His hand wandered to Murata’s hair and pulled him closer.

Wolfram could feel Murata’s deep sigh as he swallowed it. “God,” he all-but hissed in Japanese. “I knew you were different.”

Wolfram gasped, meeting his eyes. There was relief there. “Am I really that different from the others you’ve had?”

“You are genuine. You are vibrant. You are inquisitive. Even your touches are different.” He lowered his head as if he was disappointed in himself. “It is wrong of me to even ask, but I fear I am losing my willpower around you. Would you be willing to touch me, Wolfram?”

Wolfram was taken aback by the request. He had never once been asked for such a thing. It was oddly empowering, and he could feel his cock twitching to life. “Alright.” He touched the zipper of his partner’s slacks and tugged the garment along with his underwear down to his knees.

Murata reached for his hand, preventing him for touching his cock yet. “Let’s do it together.”

Wolfram nodded, repeating the actions on his own clothes. Together, they reached for each other’s cocks, and he let his eyes close and head fall back at the contact. Murata used his palm to press in. With each hardening twitch of his cock, Murata increased the pressure. He tried to follow his example, but the feeling of being touched was still so new to him that he kept shaking and losing his pace. Murata stroked evenly, twisting along the head every so often. Wolfram payed more attention to the head since that required more twist than pace. Some precum had emerged, and he spread it over the entire shaft making movements easier.

They both breathed roughly, lost in pleasure, but Wolfram came first. Caught slightly off guard, he cracked his eyes open and watched Murata’s lashes flutter as some cum rained on his hand. He tightened his grip, stroking him fast and hard. Now his breathing was nearly rattling in intensity. Wolfram watched as his mouth parted and a hissing moan escaped when he came. His hand was covered in cum, and he contemplated tasting it before he remembered all he had learned about safe sex. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Murata, he just didn’t trust those he had been with.

He rose, pulling a tissue from the old box atop the bookshelf. He wiped them both off. Murata sighed deeply, and Wolfram wondered if that had just given him more relief than their past intercourse.

“Wow.”

“I just did as you did.”

“No wonder you were so good, then. I’ve had a lot of practice.” Wolfram cringed at the thought of just how many people he had slept with.

“Could you please refrain from mentioning those _other_ people?”

“Why? Are you jealous?” He looked pleased at his revelation, and Wolfram could feel his face flushing.

“No,” he scoffed, feeling his cheeks flaming. “I just don’t like thinking on such things.”

Murata threw an arm around him, pulling him to his side. “If it isn’t jealousy, then what is it?”

“Antipathy.”

If he saw through his lie, he didn’t call him on it. “What exactly do you feel for me, Wolfram? You were very agreeable this evening.”

“I-“ _I like you_. He could form the words, but they wouldn’t come out. They shouldn’t exist. They were wrong—deplorable.

Murata released his arm, tilting his head so that his glasses glinted. “I get it. You need more time. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Quickly, he fixed his pants and left the room before Wolfram could formulate a suitable cover.

Alone, Wolfram let out a weak cry. Shit. He needed to talk to Yuuri. That was the right thing to do. He didn’t want to hurt him, but the longer he let this go on the worse it would be.

Yuuri was surprised by the expression on Wolfram’s face when he returned to their bedchamber. He had been gone longer than expected, and he had assumed they had gotten carried away, but his expression suggested otherwise. It was contorted with displeasure. “Wolf?” he asked hesitantly.

Wolfram didn’t meet his eyes, shifting in the doorway. “We need to talk.” His voice was monotone.

“Okay,” he said, trying to sound cheery despite his growing apprehension, “why don’t you come sit down.”

“No.”

“But it would be more comfortable.”

“No!”

Yuuri flinched at the harsh tone. “Okay.” His own voice was soft. “What is wrong?”

“I’ve cheated on you.”

That was all? Hadn’t he already quelled those worries? “Wolf—“

“Don’t tell me it is okay. I kissed him. I touched him. I _fell_ for him.”

The double-black’s body stilled. “You mean…You like him?”

“Yes.” The reply was so quiet, Yuuri nearly missed it.

He gripped his arm, feeling nails biting into skin. Wolfram’s loyalty had always seemed to be such a sure thing, he’d never even contemplated losing him. “But you still love me, right?” His voice sounded strange, half plea half determination.

His husband lifted his head, making eye contact for the first time since he’d entered the room. His eyes were pulsating with emotion. “Of course!”

Yuuri could feel his body relax. “Then it’s fine.”

“You are still saying that?” He flung his arms down. “Why is it so hard for you to admit that you feel jealous?”

Yuuri went to him and touched his check even though he flinched away from the contact. “Because it is. I keep telling you, I just want you happy. As long as you love me, nothing else matters.”

Wolfram fell forward against him. Yuuri brushed through his silky hair as the blond pounded at his chest. “Damn it, Yuuri! Why do you have to be so kind? It only makes this so much harder. I’ve wronged you. I need to be punished.”

“I may still not know everything about Shin Makoku, but I assure you that you have none nothing wrong. Loving someone is never wrong.”

He let him hit him until finally he moved into a true embrace. “You are an idiot. A wimp.”

Yuuri kissed the top of his head. “Yep. But I’m your wimp.”

A few days later, Murata was called upon to speak with Shibuya about official business. He was shocked to find Wolfram in the royal office seated next to him. Formal matters were always kept only between the involved parties. What was this about? “You said this was official business?”

“More like official relationship business. Please, sit.” He gestured to the empty seat in front of his desk.

Murata sat, but he didn’t relax. Had they realized the depth of his feelings? As if reading his mind, Shibuya said, “Wolf told me that you admitted to liking him. I would like to know more about these feelings.”

Regardless of his confident outward appearance, he was slowly losing his cool. This arrangement had already become too special for him to lose. He prided himself as a master of reading situations, but he was lost as to what Shibuya expected from him. Should he lie? But Wolfram was right there, and holding an intent interest at that. He couldn’t, not after praising the man’s genuineness. If he were to hold onto this, it needed to be real. “They are romantic in nature. I am aware that our agreement allows me sex only, but as they say, sex and feelings go hand in hand. I apologize for not telling you sooner.” He bowed his head, ready for Shibuya’s insults, but they didn’t come.

When he looked up, he saw him bent over a sheet of paper. And smiling. Wolfram whispered something to him to which he replied, “Why don’t you tell him?”

The blond agreed before turning to meet Murata’s eyes. “I like you, too, Murata. I knew back when you asked, however, I did not feel right telling so before I discussed it with my husband. As I’m sure you have noticed, Yuuri is quite agreeable to this whole arrangement. Therefore, we have a proposition for you.”

Shibuya pushed the sheet of paper toward him. “Sneaking around will get tiring, and adultery is a capital offense, so my position may still not be able to protect him if you are found out. That is why Wolf and I came up with a possible solution. If we both sign this agreement, I doubt anyone can stand against us. We are the most influential individuals in Shin Makoku, after all. We can just pretend that nothing happened until this was written up.”

Murata stared in shock. The paper stated in none so many words that he was allowed as many privileges and affordances that marriage would have. “Are you sure? Won’t people ask you why you would allow such a thing? After your long engagement, there will certainly be gossip.”

“It isn’t like I’ve been trying to hide my asexuality. I just didn’t think it was anyone’s business. I don’t care who disagrees. Wolfram’s—both of your—happiness is more important.”

Murata sagged in his seat, feeling defeated. “I swear, Shibuya, sometimes I wonder if you are a saint in disguise.”

Shibuya blushed. “Not you too. Just sign the paper already.”

Murata held the pen ready to sign, but then he thought of something. “Wait. So, how will this work? Will I be sleeping in your chambers? Will I be given a new room? What about my time at the Shrine?”

The king shifted. “Oh, uh, I didn’t really think about that.”

Wolfram faltered. “Yuuri! You said you thought this all the way through.”

Shibuya scratched his cheek, letting out an embarrassed laugh. “I thought I did.”

“How about we order a larger bed. That way we can stay together in the same room. As for your time at the Shrine, I can spend half the time there with you and the other half here with Yuuri. Does that sound acceptable?”

“It sounds fine to me. Shibuya?”

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t really like the idea of losing Wolf during the winter, but I can live with it.”

“Should we add it in the contract just in case?”

Shibuya shook his head. “No. It should be fine.”

“Alright.” Murata scrawled his name and title. Then he watched as the other two men did as well. A feeling of belonging came over him. This was what he had wanted, for others to care for him as he was, here and now. “Thank you,” he said, with a mushier tone than he intended.

Wolfram gave him a sentimental look. “Thank you, too.”

“Woah, Murata, I’ve never seen you like this before.”

Murata laughed, suppressing joyful tears. “This is Murata Ken.”

“Even though we’ve been friends for ages, I feel like I’m only now really seeing you.”

“Heh. That’s the way I am. Guarded. But you know what? I feel safer letting my walls down around you both.”

Wolfram went over, bringing his head to his chest. “I’m so glad to hear that. To be honest, I’ve worried about you ever since you told me that you wanted someone to see you are you truly are. I can’t love you unless you show yourself to me.”

He sighed, letting himself be coddled. “You’re right. I’ve been stupid. After everything with Shinou, I was just scared.”

Wolfram pat his hair with affection. “You have nothing to be afraid of anymore.”

“We’re both here for you,” Shibuya said.

There was no holding the tears back now, and he cried. He cried for all the many years he held within him, the losses, the pain, the regrets. He cried for the happy times he would never get back and the joy of the times he knew were to come. When he had cried until there were no tears left, Wolfram’s arms were still cradling him, and he knew that they would always be there when he needed them.


End file.
